Bed of Roses
by GirlquinndreameR
Summary: Aoko felt Kaito’s presence slipping from her grasp it nearly brought tears to her eyes.' Damage has been done, and Kaito can't erase who he is.


Bed of Roses

A Detective Conan/Magic Kaitou Fanfiction

Kuroba Kaito and Nakamori Aoko

Author's note: FYI, red means "love", white means "purity" and blue means "impossible". Okay, now go read.

* * *

She didn't want to believe it. Aoko felt her insides dry up and her mind fill. Every single refusal and denial cluttered her thoughts. Every single "No" and "It can't be" were crushed. She couldn't close her eyes, not with him standing there, monocle fallen to the floor, along with his top hat.

They stood quietly in a dark room. For a while, she held her breath. Maybe with the breath's release, the world would disappear and it would all be a terrible, horrible dream. Aoko slowly crouched down, picking up the monocle. It was real. It was cold, with its smooth painted metal frame and flawless glass. Oh my god, it was real. Kaito… KID, whoever, was standing there before her. Her best friend's face in her sworn nemesis' suit… she wasn't sure who he was.

It wasn't as if she never saw the signs. No, no. She chose to be blind to the signs of his night job. "You…" she finally exhaled, clutching the monocle. Her fingers tightened around it, so very hard that her knuckles became white.

"Aoko…" he began but stopped himself short.

An echo erupted through the room.

She didn't feel the glass break or the blood pool down her palms. This made the KID jump towards her, seeing how much damage her skin had endured.

"Don't!" she barked with more ferocity than intended. Then again, maybe not. He did lie to her, after all. She tried to prove his innocence to her father and succeeded. But she couldn't try to argue it any longer: Kaito and KID were one in the same. She couldn't disprove it anymore. He was standing right before her. "Don't…"

"Your hand--," he started.

She interrupted then. "You lied to me. You are my best friend. I even—," she cut herself off, gaze to the floor. "How could you?"

His eyes narrowed. Annoyance? Shame? Guilt? "I never meant for this to happen. Not like this…"

"You weren't going to tell me," she spoke bitterly. She looked up but quickly cast her eyes to the floor. Aoko couldn't look into his eyes. Those were her best friend's eyes. The blue eyes she loved so much.

"When I was ready, I was going to tell you," he corrected. "But…" he stepped forward again, crouched in front of her and took her scarred hand in his. "Damn," he cursed. "That looks pretty bad. Stupid, hurting yourself…"

Quickly, she withdrew her fisted hand away from his now bloodstained glove. There was Kaito's voice, scolding her. He was her friend, right? It hurt to try and figure it out. "It'll heal…" unlike other things, she added mentally.

But it was almost as if he read her thoughts. "For what it's worth," he said to her as he picked up his hat, "I am sorry." Kaito was gone right before the pursuing officers came.

When they stampeded in the room, Aoko wasn't listening to the hustle and bustle, or her father's concerned yelps over her bloody palm. She took a faint glance to the window and saw a trace of a white cape. She still felt numb. She couldn't even feel when she released the monocle, letting it clatter to the floor.

--

She had to grin and bear it. After a late night trip to the hospital, her father drove her home; she had school the next day. It took her father's coercing to finally get out of bed and dress into uniform. She had to remain normal; Aoko couldn't voice her newfound knowledge. Even so, she didn't want to see Kaito at school. Not after all that had happened last night.

But that day, she seemed to have gotten her wish; he wasn't at school. And the next day following. For a whole week, he didn't attend classes. That spot next to her desk was vacant. When asked, the only way she could respond was, "He's sick."

And time rolled by, weeks really, and it was her birthday. She was eighteen. Eighteen years of life and not one day could she recall living without Kaito's grin… until recently. And that feeling in itself left a cold, sour taste in her throat.

_Aoko turned the knob and was immediately introduced to a fury of red. Her eyes widened in awe as she drank in the sight before her. Red rosebuds of different sizes were scattered all over the room; on her desk, on her bed, stuck to the closet doors, on her bureau, vanity mirror, shelves, dressers…every piece of furniture in her room was covered in red long-stem rosebuds. And on her pillow was a bundle of seventeen white roses tied in a yellow ribbon. The white blossoms stood out among the sea of crimson. And there, sitting on her windowsill, was her culprit. Kaito grinned at her, thoroughly pleased with his work. "Happy Birthday," he told her._

_"Kaito…" Aoko gasped, gingerly stepping in her room, careful not to tread on any flowers. "This is why you left so quickly?"_

_His grin became even wider._

_Aoko smiled, taking the white bundle in hand. She inhaled their gentle fragrance, enjoying the soft petals tickling her skin. She turned to him, a bright smile on her lips. "You know, you started with one rose. Then it eventually turned to a bouquet. Now it just… exploded."_

_"The more, the better, right?"_

_She nodded. "True… except, who's going to clean all this?" she looked up to him and noticed her now vacant windowsill. "Mou!" she exclaimed, hands at her hips. There was no way she could collect all these flowers to make potpourri. Besides, knowing him, he probably hid some in other spots, like the pockets of her jackets. It would take forever to clean up this mess! Still, looking at the seventeen white roses in hand, she couldn't help but smile. Oh, how she loved her birthday, she mused as her eyes turned to the window, at the very spot he had previously occupied._

Birthdays just weren't going to be the same without him. She was used to his skirt-flipping antics, his jokes, and his obnoxiousness. Sure, his roses were something she was accustomed to every birthday since she was four, but still…

More importantly, as the weeks rolled by, his presence began to fade from her. Which left a worse feeling in her stomach. Kaito was Kaitou KID… Kaitou KID was her best friend Kaito… the boy she grew up with. The boy she hopelessly fell in love with. She didn't understand why it had to happen the way it did; the fates were truly cruel. She wanted to yell and scream at him. She wanted to chase him all over town, armed with a mop, to beat his brains out. She wanted to bash him into reason and knock sense into him until he was purple. But above all the violent tendencies, she just wanted to see him again. Feel his kinetic aura as he sat besides her. See his wide, silly grin with that twinkle in his eyes. Hear his voice that always had an air of fun and laughter. Aoko felt Kaito's presence slipping from her grasp; it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Aoko opened her bedroom door and was introduced to red. She stepped into her bedroom, ankle deep in red and full bloom roses. Every inch of her room, the floor, the walls, her shelves, drawers, desk, closet, VCR, CD player, television, bed, pillows… every part of her room was stuffed to the brim with either long-stem, thornless, fresh large red roses or the blossoms itself.

She felt her breath lodged. "Kaito…" her legs pulled her to the window, its panels open to the afternoon sky. He wasn't there, sitting or standing anywhere outside. She only found a thin white card taped to the glass panel. Aoko pulled it off her window, trying to find her rhythm to breathe. She opened the folded card and read its three simple words; she couldn't stand long after that. She fell back onto her bed, the bed covered in a sea of deep red flowers, white card still clutched in her bandaged hand. She turned her head and noticed a bundle of stems sitting on her pillow. She reached for the bouquet and realized it was a bundle of eighteen roses, tied together with a white ribbon. Staring at the blue color the flowers held caused the tears to finally fall. She held the blue bouquet against her chest, silently called out with her tears, alone, in her bed of roses.

--

**Happy Birthday. **

**Goodbye.**

--

…fin.


End file.
